Galion Serves
by Sixty-four K
Summary: A story starring Galion, butler to the Elvenking, the world's most under-appreciated elf. After years of being unappreciated and insulted by the Elvenking, Galion has finally had enough. No longer will he slave away under the tyrannical rule of Thranduil. Galion sets out on a journey to find a master worthy of his skill as a butler. Current: The Master of Lake-Town part one
1. Prologue

_Hi, I'm 64K, and I'm the world's biggest Galion fangirl._

 _In case you didn't know, Galion is the Elvenking's butler. He features mainly in the book of The Hobbit as the elf who drank the king's Dorwinion wine, allowing Bilbo to steal the dungeon keys from the captain of the guards, who was also drinking wine. Galion is in the movie, but in a very brief, non-speaking role. Professor Tolkien said that no one knows what happened to Galion after the Elvenking found out about his mistake, so I've decided to write a funny version of what happened. I hope you like it.  
_

 _It's not too evident in this rather morbid chapter, but this story is partially inspired by Neril's Legolas discovers Kool-Aid and NirCele's Glorfindel Goes Hug-Wild Crazy. Check them out- both stories are hilarious! Also, special thanks to NirCele, for motivating me to write about Galion. You really encouraged me, so, if you're reading this, thanks! It's not exactly Galion Angst yet;), but hopefully that will be coming soon._

 _Things will(hopefully) get funnier next chapter- this one is just to set things up. Also, sorry for the long author's note._

 **Galion Serves**

 **Prologue**

"I can't believe you! You of all people, Galion- I thought that you would have more sense. Thanks to you, my prisoners- and all chance of getting anything from them- are gone! If you hadn't gone and had that wine, _and_ given it to the Captain of the Guard, to boot, we wouldn't be in this mess! You stupid, mentally-challenged, worthless, fool of a butler! You know what? I should never have hired you. Legolas would make a better butler than you."

Galion knew he deserved this tirade. Of course he deserved it. He deserved everything that he got from the Elvenking. He wouldn't deny his master this outraged rant- but he did wish that the Elvenking would back away slightly. He understood that "the closer the better" was a general rule when attempting to intimidate someone, but he had never had any desire to be _this_ close to Thranduil's face. Nevertheless, he endured this verbal assault, as he always had. Until he heard that word. That unspeakable word. _Alcoholic._ That was what made him snap.

"I AM NOT!"

Thranduil backed away. "What?" he asked, surprised at his usually-meek butler's outburst.

"I am not an alcoholic," repeated Galion firmly. "Everyone always says I am, but I'm not. All I did was drink some wine. Is that a crime? If it is, then you should be hung from the highest gallows in the land. The Captain of the Guard drank the Dorwinion as well, and no one calls him an alcoholic. No, it's just Old Galion- who is younger than you, by the way- the slowcoach, the greedy, foolish drunkard! Well, if you are so disappointed with Old Galion's service, despite his working himself to the bone every day for you, then perhaps Old Galion would prefer to serve someone else"

Thranduil had never been scared of Galion before- well, it was long ago that he had been, anyway- but he was now. His butler was furious, and it showed. He looked as though he was ten feet tall, and the look in his eyes showed that he would kill whoever touched him next. "Galion...I'm sorry," began Thranduil meekly. "I- I lost my temper, that's all. Forgive me?"

"I should say not," sniffed Galion. "You verbally abuse me every day without fail, and I, the loyal butler I am, always forgive you. But not today!"

With a dramatic toss of his hair, Galion spun on his heel, turning towards the palace gate. "Farewell, my king," he spat. "Have a nice life."

"Wait," cried Thranduil. "Galion, don't be a fool! You know I didn't mean it. Who's going to serve me now?"

Galion grinned evilly. "Why, Legolas. After all, you said that he would make a far better butler than I. Once again, farewell."

He walked out of the front gate, nose in the air, ignoring the Elvenking's calls.

Feren, another servant of the Elvenking's, stared incredulously at Galion's departing figure. "Hey! Where are you going?" he called.

Without looking back, Galion answered. "I'm going on an adventure!"

* * *

A few hours later, Galion found himself outside of the forest of Mirkwood. He had followed the river towards the Long Lake, and now had a fine view of Lake-Town. Now that he had left the forest, there was nothing left for it but to make a plan of action. He would no longer serve the Elvenking- that was for certain. Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't much good at anything else. He was weaker than the average elf- fighting as a career was out of the question. Although he was knowledgeable about many things, he was no scholar. He had few talents to speak of, other than the many little skills that a successful butler must possess.

Wait... no one had said that he had to switch careers! He would merely find a new employer, rather than change his vocation. Surely there were many people in Middle Earth with the need for a skilled servant- and he was skilled. The Elvenking would have died long ago but for his efforts, he was certain; the foolish, arrogant fellow had an uncanny knack for putting himself into deadly situations that only Galion seemed to be able to remedy.

Suddenly feeling ill for some inexplicable reason,(Was it from guilt? Surely not) Galion distracted himself from his many memories of his years in Thranduil's service by considering who to now serve. The simplest thing to do was to visit Lake-Town, he decided. Surely there was someone there who had need of his services. Upon deciding this, Galion began marching briskly off towards Lake-Town. Little did he know that this town was the first of many that he would visit on his quest to find the perfect employer.

 _Thanks for reading! Please review; my life force increases with every review I receive._


	2. Chapter 1: The Master of Lake-Town pt 1

_Thank you for reviewing, favouriting and following, everyone! I honestly didn't think that Galion would get this much attention._

 **Chapter One: The Master of Lake-Town**

Lake-Town. Once a frontier town for fugitives from Dale, it was now a great city in its own right. The size of the town, or even its prosperity, did not impress Galion, however.

 _This place is disgusting! So dingy and glum-looking. I'm sure that there aren't many tourists visiting this little hole of a town,_ he thought. Then, his thoughts brightened. A dirty town wanted cleaning up, and he was just the elf to do it. Determined to find a job, Galion strode up to the gate, nodding respectfully to the guards, who were armed with spears, at the gate as he made to go past.

He nearly had a heart attack when, without warning, the spears that the guards held dropped, blocking his way as they formed an 'X' across the gateway.

"What's this!" Galion demanded.

"You can't come this way," said a guard.

"And why not?"

"'Cause you're an elf," replied the guard.

"I was under the impression that the men of Lake-Town were at peace with elves," said Galion, struggling to keep his annoyance hidden.

"We are," said a second guard. "But elves don't come in by the gate. They come in by the docks when they raft the empty wine-barrels over to town."

"Well," said Galion, irritation now clearly evident in his voice, "I didn't come by the river. I walked here, so it only made sense for me to come in by the gate. It's merely a matter of circumstance that most elves come in by the docks. Have I explained this to you thoroughly enough?"

He decided to take the guards' sullen silence as an affirmative.

"Good. Then let me in."

"No can do," said the guards in unison.

Galion fixed them with his most intimidating scowl- the one that made Legolas shut up when Galion was busy mopping and didn't have time to listen to how many spiders the prince had slain that day. "I'm prepared to make a very big fuss," he said.

"Go ahead," said the guards. "We dare you."

Galion grinned evilly.

* * *

 _This jail cell isn't so bad- well, it was, but now it's pretty nice. Not a bad cleaning job at all, if I do say so myself,_ thought Galion, surveying his latest handiwork. The once rusty bars shone as though they had just been forged, and the various stains on the walls had almost vanished. _That's muscle power for you. I didn't even have any cleaning solution- just my pocket handkerchief and my very forceful scrubbing skills._

Suddenly, Galion heard footsteps drawing near the jail. His keen elven hearing, which had been honed by many years of hearing Legolas attempting to sneak food out of the kitchen, or Thranduil trying to swipe some Dorwinion from the cellar, allowed him the knowledge that the person approaching was still quite a few paces away. With the time this allowed, Galion made himself look as relaxed as he possibly could. There was no sense in letting his captors have the satisfaction of thinking that they had made him uncomfortable.

The approaching person was certainly taking his time. Galion could now tell that his captor, assuming this person was his captor, was a heavy man, who made no attempt at lightening his steps, and instead shuffled along the floor.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the man, dressed in foppish attire, arrived in front of Galion's jail cell. "How are we doing?" he asked, a sinister smirk on his face.

"Very well, thank you," replied Galion, copying the man's expression exactly.

"I hope you like your cell," said the man. "It's very special. I picked it especially for you."

"You mean you wanted me to live in squalor?" asked Galion. "Well, I hope you don't mind, but I improved it slightly. The original decorating scheme just didn't appeal to me aesthetically."

The man looked around the jail cell. His smirk faded as he saw the now-clean room. "Enough chit-chat," he said crossly. "I am the Master of Lake-Town, and I am very displeased with what you did to my guards."

Galion shrugged. "They'll wake up in a few hours, don't worry," he said reassuringly.

The Master of Lake-Town didn't look reassured. "I could have you imprisoned for life," he threatened.

"I suppose you could," agreed Galion. Although he answered coolly, he was a little rattled. Imprisonment for life would not bode well for his prospects of future employment.

After a moment, however, the Master's smirk returned. "I believe that I have just thought of a more suitable punishment for you," he sneered.

"What might that be?" asked Galion.

"You," said the Master, pointing dramatically at Galion, "will be my personal servant. Not every man has his own personal elf to order about as he pleases," he said to himself.

Galion didn't like the sound of 'personal elf'. Nevertheless, he could see no better way out of his current situation. "Very well," he said reluctantly. "I will serve you- but if you overstep your bounds as a master, and order me to do things more fitting to a beast of burden, I will have no choice but to resign my position as your servant."

The Master of Lake-Town nodded absently. "Yes, yes," he said, all the while thinking of jobs for his elf to do. He was in the mood for some sausage rolls- perhaps this elf could cook as well as he could clean. "I suppose I'd better introduce you to Alfrid. He's my counsellor, and my other servant. I'm sure you two will get along very well."

* * *

"'Oo's this?"

Galion couldn't help but chuckle at the look on Alfrid's face when he was first introduced to him. The man looked fit to explode. _A bit jealous, are we?_ thought Galion, inwardly smirking.

"Mind your aitches, Alfrid," said the Master. "This is my new elf. He's going to serve me along with you."

"What's h'an h'elf doing in Laketown?" Alfrid demanded.

"I came here looking for a job," supplied Galion helpfully.

"And you have received one," agreed the Master. "He will do some of the jobs that you have proved yourself to be incompetent at, such as cooking. In fact, that will be your first task, elf."

The Master of Lake-Town turned towards Alfrid. "I want him to cook dinner. A very fine dinner. You shall show him to the kitchens, tell him where everything is, and tell him exactly what I want. Can you do that?"

"H'ov course I can," grunted Alfrid.

"Wonderful." said the Master. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Alfrid and Galion standing in the hall of the Great House.

After the Master left, Alfrid glanced furtively from side to side. Evidently satisfied that there was no one to hear his words, he turned towards Galion, his face livid.

"Hi'm warning you, Master H'elf," he whispered through gritted teeth, "h'if you try and take my place as the Master's best servant, Hi'll 'ave your 'ead- pointy h'ears and all!"

Galion lifted an eyebrow, gifting Alfrid with a look of pure elvish disdain. "Is that right?" he asked. "I assure you, Master Alfrid, that I am in no way trying to take your place. I merely wish to serve my master, whomever he may be, as well as I possibly can. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to be shown to the kitchens. You can tell me what the Master likes, and I will cook it."

"Well, h'alright," grumbled Alfrid, leading the way down the hall, "but it's all tricky. The food, I mean. It's h'all so confounded tricky to cook. H'if I could just figure it out, then the Master would like me best. 'E'd know that H'i was the best servant 'e could h'ever 'ave."

Galion couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for the eager-to-please servant. After all, hadn't he once been like that, long, long ago? "Well, perhaps I could teach you how to cook the food better once you show me what he likes," he offered.

"Bah!" snorted Alfrid. "H'as h'if you could do it any better than H'i."

Galion's sympathy quickly evaporated. "Well then, I withdraw my offer," he snapped softly(Galion had needed to learn how to snap softly, for it disturbed the Elvenking if he snapped loudly.)

Finally, the two of them stopped outside two huge doors. "'Ere's the kitchen," said Alfrid, pushing the doors open.

Galion stood stunned at the sight of what lay within. Counter upon counter, oven upon oven! The kitchens of the Elvenking were about as sophisticated as a campfire compared to this!

"Quite the kitchen, this is,"was all he could say.

"H'isn't it, though," said Alfrid proudly. "Now, 'ere's what the Master likes for dinner." He pulled a scroll out of his sleeve and unrolled it. The scroll was so long that it rolled out the door into the street. Unfazed by the list's vast length, Alfrid began to read. "Two loaves of bread- crispy crust. H'aged cheddar- one round, thinly sliced. 'Errings- soaked h'in brine. Ham- rubbed with 'oney. Scalloped potatoes..."

"Wait!" interrupted Galion. "Is this for a party of some kind? I am used to having at least a few assistants when preparing for such events."

Alfrid laughed. "H'of course not. This is just for the Master."  
Galion groaned inwardly- but not outwardly, of course, that would be rude. Why had he chosen this particular man as his master? The whole world had been available to him, and he had chosen the job that would leave him cooking non-stop.

"Something wrong?" asked Alfrid.

"Yes, but it's none of your concern," said Galion tautly. "You may leave."

"Very well, your mightiness," snorted Alfrid, who was peeved that Galion had interrupted his reading of the list. He shoved the list into Galion's hands, turned, and left the kitchen, leaving Galion to wallow in misery. The unfortunate butler stared at the impossibly long list, desperately hoping that the Master would not demand a meal this elaborate every day. Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to him. If this was one of the Master of Lake-Town's meals, what would a party of his be like? After a brief moment of pure terror, Galion put the thought out of his head. The Master was obviously too stingy with his wealth and food to want to share them with others- why, he wasn't even paying Galion, was he? Galion concurred, with great relief, that it was quite unlikely that he would be forced to manage a party under this employer.

Indeed, it was unlikely- but it happened nonetheless.

 _To be continued..._

* * *

 _I hope that Alfrid was understandable. It's fun writing with an accent, but I keep worrying that people won't understand him. :P_

 _Galion will serve you for a day if you review._


	3. Chapter 2: The Master of Lake-Town pt 2

_*gasps* I'm so sorry! It's been so long since I updated last! I was so focused on finishing my story Lyre, Lyre that I didn't think of writing this one further. I hope this chapter is worth the wait, though, and if you want more Galion in between this one and the next, Lyre, Lyre has him co-starring along with another Mirkwood elf, Feren. You might want to check it out. ;) Whether you do do or not, though, I hope you enjoy this chapter. _

**Chapter Three: The Master of Lake-town Part Two**

"H'up and 'hat 'em, my fellow servant!"

Galion blinked, groaned, and sat up from his sleeping mat( _At least in Mirkwood, I had a real bed...)._ "What is it, Alfrid?" he asked, with all the courtesy he could muster.

The manservant grinned at the butler. "'Aven't you 'eard? It's to be h'a grand party today."

"Is it now?" asked Galion, head still filled with sleep. "How very nice." Then he realized.

* * *

"No. No no no NO! I will not organize this party. I've done enough, I've gone above and beyond for you more times than I can count, and I will NOT organize this."

The Master of Lake-Town shook his head, clicking his tongue condescendingly. "You've only been here a few days, and you're already complaining? This will be a grand celebration, and you say that you've had experience in throwing parties. This should be easy for you."

"But that's just it!" said Galion, angstily twisting a lock of hair around a bony finger. "It's not easy! Even in Mirkwood it wasn't easy, but I did it anyway, but I will not do it here. This party goes against my morals, and I just can't do it. I'm sorry."

The Master scoffed. "You elves really should get rid of your archaic prejudice against dwarves. It's old-fashioned and backwards. They're going to take back the Mountain, they say, and if they do, this town will become more prosperous than ever, which means more money for m- I mean, the town. It's for the good of Lake-Town that you throw this party. So stop complaining and get to work."

With that, the Master made his way out the door, out to cheering crowds and songs of valour, leaving the poor butler behind, alone with his inner turmoil.

* * *

Galion was cooking. He was cooking for the party. He was cooking for the party that celebrated the dwarves that had escaped his king- that is, the Elvenking of Mirkwood's palace because of _his_ carelessness. And he hated the idea more than he had hated anything before; more than he had thought possible to hate something.

 _I can't arrange this party. It's not because of dwarves, specifically, of course... I just- ugh. Never mind... talking to myself once again... indulging in angst again...if only I hadn't had that wine..._

Galion kicked the table leg, and then gasped, immediately wishing he hadn't. Oh, it wasn't because he had hurt his foot doing that- he was a stoic, and you would never catch him doing anything more drastic than blinking from so carelessly hurting himself- it was because doing so had knocked the souffle that had taken him five hours to cook off the table.

Of course, it had to be at that inopportune time that Alfrid entered the kitchen.

"Exit the kitchen right now, and no one gets hurt," said Galion politely.

Alfrid blinked. "Hi'm wounded, H'i h'am," he said, somewhat petulantly. "H'and me coming to lend you h'a 'and."

"I'm sorry," said Galion, staring down at the squashed souffle. "I lost my temper. I'm sorry."

Alfrid didn't answer, instead glancing around the kitchen. "H'i see you've been busy," he said, nodding toward the table, which was covered in food.

"I have been," said Galion.

"H'and you 'ave been since you came," added Alfrid.

"Oh, well, yes," said Galion.

"H'and H'i feel sorry for you."

"You do?" Galion was surprised. Alfrid hadn't exactly shown his sympathy earlier on- why he'd even told him that the butler would be sorry if he did anything to usurp Alfrid's place as 'best servant'.

"Yes," said Alfrid. "H'i can see that you're used to h'a better place than this."

"Yes..." said Galion, unsure of how to respond.

"So," began Alfrid. "Hi'm willing to 'elp you h'escape, h'if that's what you want to do."

Galion blinked. "You'd do that?" Granted, Galion was a little embarrassed that Alfrid assumed that he was in need of help escaping, but it was true, was it not? He couldn't exactly leave the Great House on his own- he didn't know the town very well, and the guards would surely catch him before he could get anywhere.

"Sure," said Alfrid. He handed Galion a bag. "These should be h'enough supplies to last you a good while," he said. "Now. Follow me."

Galion did. He was soon led to the cellar, where the Master of Lake-town stored his provisions. Alfrid closed the door, then glanced furtively from side to side. Soon satisfied that there was no one spying on them, he shoved a wine barrel to the side. Much to Galion's surprise, there was a trap-door!

"H'i use this h'all the time," explained Alfrid. "H'it's useful when you want to get away from the Master for h'a little while. H'it'll lead you h'out of town h'and h'out h'into the wilds."

Galion was slightly stunned. And here he had thought that Alfrid was a useless excuse for a living being! "Thank you," he said hesitantly.

Alfrid seemed slightly embarrassed. "Well," he said, scowling, "h'at least now Hi'll be the Master's h'only servant, h'and H'i won't 'ave to put h'up with your h'uppity ways."

Galion sniffed. "Well, I suppose I owe you less thanks now. But thank you all the same." He climbed down the trap-door. "Good-bye," he said, just before Alfrid pushed the barrel back on top of the opening.

Galion followed the underground path for some distance, and soon found himself exiting the tunnel a short distance from the city. He stared about him in awe. The land before him was a barren wilderness. Nothing grew, and the sky was lit eerily, as if there was a fire burning viciously worlds away. In the dark distance loomed the Lonely Mountain. Galion stared at it, wondering what to do next with his life. His first employer- well, he was through with Thranduil. The Master of Lake-town had been, if anything, worse than the Elvenking, however, and Galion was determined to keep from making a similar mistake with a future employer. Right now, however, there was nothing for it but to plod onwards. Galion decided that the best way to go was towards the Lonely Mountain- he hated to draw nearer to the dragon that was said to reside within, but he needed to distance himself from Lake-town, and he was certainly not going back in the direction of Mirkwood. This decided, Galion slung his bag over his shoulder, and set off on the next leg of his journey.

* * *

 _Thanks for reading, guys! Please review- Alfrid will give you a sack full of questionable supplies if you do. Galion wants you to know that he's very happy for the attention thus far- he never believed that he would have gotten eleven reviews, but you proved him wrong!_


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